


Sunday Afternoon

by Geli



Series: Jungle Stories [4]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Erotic Fantasies, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geli/pseuds/Geli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim tells Blair one of his erotic fantasies about him and Blair in the jungle.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank my betareader MoonShadow for her great help. :-)

Sunday afternoon, I am listening to the new Santana CD. It makes me melancholy. The sound of Carlos' guitar is unmistakable and it brings back a lot of old memories and feelings. I used to listen to the music when I was lovesick and dreaming about my lovers. Wandering around the loft, wrapped up in my cocoon of bittersweet memories I don't notice Sandburg watching me with a curious face. 

"Penny for your thoughts!" He challenges. 

Obviously he has abandoned his laptop and surfing in the Internet. Sundays had always something weird, at least to me, especially the late afternoons. I become introspective, I have deep insights about my life, really clear moments. 

"I was thinking about old lovers." 

Blair smiles and slides down on the couch, his posture telling me he is willing to listen. 

"Do you connect special songs or disks with someone you knew?" I ask. 

"Sure." 

I am quiet a moment. Leave it to Blair to figure out this means nothing more will come of that line of questioning without some encouragement. 

"What do you associate with me?" 

The question surprises me. I've never thought about it. We have been together as friends for more than three years. It could be a number of songs. I shrug. 

"I had a dream about you last night." He suddenly says. "You were in the jungle with the Chopec." 

"What happened?" 

"I can't remember. A lot of moving around." 

"I wondered sometimes what it might have been like if we met in the jungle," I say. 

"Would have been cool. I could have studied you." 

I stare at him. That's not what I had imagined. He can see it in my eyes. Somehow, he has also clear moments on Sunday afternoons. 

"What did you imagine? Tell me." 

He says it in a way that makes it seem as if he knew what kind of stuff I had in mind. It surprises me since so far he has ignored any of my tentative attempts to show my deeper feelings towards him. But I have to be certain. 

"You're sure?" 

We both know I am giving him an out. He could slip out and we could pretend none of this ever happened. 

"Tell me." 

I sit down at the other end of the couch and collect my courage. There is one fantasy I like most and it's not as weird and confusing as the others. 

"Well, you've been there with the tribe for some time now and we...." My voice falters, my courage has left me. 

When I speak it out loud and he rejects me, our friendship will be over. Not completely, but it would never be the same. He sits there, patiently waiting. And I realize that he wouldn't have asked when he hadn't made up his mind to delve into this possibility. He has known for some time now how I feel about him and decided to ignore it until he was sure for himself. 

"We decide to be together, to bond." 

He still sits quietly there, only his fingers nervously tucking at the cushions. I know it's only his restlessness. When he has to sit still, he starts to fidget. 

I need to speak it out loud or I wouldn't be able to tell the dream. 

"We decide to marry." 

I wait for a reaction but there is none, well, almost none. The barest of physical changes tell me he is interested. So I continue. 

"I dreamt there would be a ceremony like the ones I had witnessed when I was there. I would go with the men, my friends, into the jungle to hunt a special prey for the party we would have. Fat, sweet meat, some pigs maybe. And we would be gone for some days, sleeping alone in the jungle. We would talk about past lovers and what it would mean to be committed. While you were at home making something special to wear, a jewelry, for both of us, that we would wear at the ceremony to show our bond." 

I trace some pattern on the quilt. It sound silly but I force myself to continue. 

"You would sit with you friends, yet unmarried, and snicker about me, that you caught me in your spider's web. When we were done hunting, we would return and the whole tribe would come together to do the cooking." 

I look up, searching Blair's thoughtful face. 

"My friends and I would go to bathe and they would tease me about your attributes - about how I would enjoy them soon. You would go to clean yourself up with your friends and then prepare yourself carefully with the help of a friend. Paint your body with bright red and black and adorn it with jewelry. My friends would paint me because I'm too stupid to do it myself and then we would join the others." 

I trace the pattern again. 

"There would be music and dancing and eating. When the night falls, we would sit around the fire and drink the alcohol the women had made for this special occasion. There would be a lot of laughing and story telling. We wouldn't sit together but now and then we would peek at each other and we would see the fire and the hunger in each other's eyes. Finally, our friends would give us a send off. We would stand up and be surrounded in by all the tribe members. There would be a lot of cheering and encouraging. You would give me the charm and we would hold each other's hands." 

I stare into Blair's eyes, searching for a reaction. Finding only calmness, I dare to continue. 

"Your eyes are black and huge and the light of the fire is dancing over your skin. The air is hot and the jungle is noisy. The food and the fire smell intensely, but all I sense is you. My head feels light. I think I must be flying but you hold me to the ground. The shaman spits some of the beer over us and speaks some words. Then we leave the circle and go to our hut holding hands." 

I stop, unable to recount the intimate part of my fantasy. I'm convinced I've offended my friend with this. Blair senses my embarrassment. 

"Go on, tell me the rest," he murmurs. 

I sigh. It's better to continue than let Blair get the wrong impression what happens next. I don't want him to think that I do something dirty, ugly to him. I take a deep, calming breath and continue. 

"It's dark there. The moon is pale overhead and the light from the fire barely illuminates the hut but I can see you clearly. I lay you down on the mat on the floor. Your skin is tanned. The drawings on your body run criss cross, mingling with the shadows. Your eyes are huge and your hair is fanned out around your head. Two large, red flowers behind your ears give you the face of some elfin creature. You lie still there, waiting with the hint of a smile and I know although I'm the strong warrior who caught his prey, in reality, I'm the prey. Prey that comes willingly and helpless to the hunter and all I can do is surrender. You know that you have me under your spell and you don't need any weapon or trap or force. All you have to do is to lie there with this enigmatic smile and your blue eyes and I throw myself at your feet." 

Blair shifts in his seat trying to get comfortable with his tight jeans. This was far more than he had ever expected. 

"I lay down on you, covering your body with mine, trying to melt into you. I want to feel my hot flesh brush against your cool skin. I feel like I'm drowning and you sling your arms and legs around me and hold me against you. And I know I'm safe. I sigh and you stroke my hair and I burrow my face in your neck and curls. I want to bite you but I'm afraid to hurt you, to break your soft skin. You move your hips and I slide inside you. You are so hot, so tight. I move against you and kiss your lips. I haven't kissed you yet because I was afraid I'd kiss you and never be able to stop, never be able to let go. Your mouth is sweet, full of tastes and I know that I'm not afraid anymore because I could always close my eyes and remember your lips on mine." 

Blair is panting now. I am lost in my fantasy and Blair looks like he wishes it were true. 

"Your hands wander to my nipples and you rub and tweak them gently. They come alive. Nobody has touched my nipples like you do, you make love to them with your fingers. I pump faster because I can't help it even though I don't want it to end, I want to stay inside you forever. You make small these small whimpering sounds and I realize you are alive, not some beautiful dream creature and you are drawing pleasure from my body. Your chest is arching up against mine, your hair tickles my chest. 

Male, so male. It excites me. My male lover! And suddenly I can't bear that you are under me, lying on your back. I get up, pulling you with me. I grunt because you are heavy and strong and grip my shoulders with all your strength. I sit on my heels and pull you onto my lap and onto my cock. It feels right face to face, up, nobody on top or under. Equal. You sling your arms around my neck and caress my head with your fingertips, kiss my chin, my throat, my ears. We are not moving and my dick throbs inside you. Everything is wet and slick. I can feel the hairs on you skin and your cock presses against my stomach. Your legs are slung around me, just like your arms. You possess me. Forever." 

Blair is clutching his pants now, not sure who is more aroused now; me or him. 

"I cradle your butt in my hands and lift you up and down and you gasp and moan and so do I. You move with me, faster and faster. I know it's not going to last long and I cry because I don't want it to end. Tears run down my face and you kiss them away. Then you lean your face against my shoulder and clutch at my back. I hear your sobs. Everything seems to burn, the blood in our veins is pulsing wildly. Suddenly my thighs cramp up, I feel a pain and come inside you. My body spasms and I struggle to keep us up. The intense sensation in my groin is all I can feel for a moment all over my body. You give a hoarse, strangled cry and come against me. You bite my shoulder and clamp around me in a feral grip. You shake against me and then you go all lax in my arms. You hang on me like a sleeping child and I kiss your forehead and temple. You pant heavily and I stroke your back to help you relax. When I think I can trust my muscles again, I lay us both down back on the mat. I slip out of you feeling a deep loss. I cradle your pliant body against me. You fall asleep and I realize that my senses still are only aware of you. I bury my face in your curls and sleep too." 

Sandburg watches me with big amazed eyes. He sits there at the end of the couch as if he has forgotten how to move. I know the next seconds are vital for our friendship so I try not to move or even to breathe. 

He tucks his curls behind an ear. "That was beautiful, man. I didn't know, that you could be.... like this. So poetic. I though it would hear some crude male fantasy. But it was just...beautiful." 

"Love, Sandburg, love," I tell him. 

He nods. "But in real life it wouldn't be like this, this romantic, you know." 

"Au contraire, Chief," I contradict, "It would be exactly like this if you were really in love." 

He pales on hearing these words. I can see he desperately wants to love like that but he is scared to let go, scared to get hurt. I've always loved intensely. I've been terribly hurt but I never regret the good times. I risk my heart every time I love. Before he met me, Sandburg had only observed from outside - a safe place - and hadn't gotten involved. He's had to give up being just an observer. To stay by my side, he's shed his blood, lost his innocence, put aside his safety and delayed fulfilling his dreams of fame and fortune. What has he gotten? Me. And I'm offering him all of me. All of me - what I am now and all that I will ever be. He only has to reach out and take it. 

I stretch my hand out along the back of the couch. It's almost dark now in the loft. The light is fading and his face is pale against the dark brick wall. Time passes. His hand creeps toward mine and curls around my fingers, a strong grip, a grip that says 'I won't let go'. Not now, not ever. 

* * *

End

 


End file.
